


The Worst Things Happen in the Dark

by Bunsandpups



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 06:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4949410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunsandpups/pseuds/Bunsandpups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael is terrified there's something in the darkness in his house. He always has been. Tonight, he's right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Worst Things Happen in the Dark

         The boy ran into his home, standing in the light of the antechamber. He leaned against the door, inhaling deeply to try and calm down his heart rate. The fear of the dark had haunted Michael since he was a child, and he did his best to make sure the other members of the AH team never knew. To be fair, the fear only came out when he was alone. If someone was there, it was like it didn’t matter. He would have someone to help fight off whatever nightmare lurked out there, just out of sight.

         But now he was home, alone again. He felt paralyzed, knowing the light was the only safe point in the house. He wanted to stay there forever, but he knew he couldn’t. His bedroom wasn’t _that_ far away, it was just getting to the lights that would be a problem.

         His house wasn’t ideally designed for light switches. He would have to backtrack his route, and he hated leaving the lights on if he knew he was only going to be at work. So, he would end up doing a weird back-and-forth until he was finally able to get to his bed, lay down between the covers, and sleep.

         He strayed to the edge of the circle of light and looked at the lamp. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself. “It’s two steps. You can make two fucking steps.” He darted forward and smacked the lamp with his hand. Almost every lamp in his house—especially the ones that were on the path into the house and to the bedroom—were touch lamps. He didn’t have to fiddle with a switch this way, and he didn’t have to curse the badly designed room layouts. _Who the fuck puts a light switch halfway into the room, anyway?_

         He stood there, letting the safety wash over him. Now it was okay to turn on the kitchen light. He moved around to turn it on, and headed back to turn the first light off, carefully tracing the safe path he had made for himself. Once back in the light of the kitchen, he turned off the lamp. For just a brief moment, part of him was in the darkness. He edged forward, but not before he was certain he felt something brush past his ankle. If he didn’t know better, he would swear it was a cat. _Okay. Okay. I don’t own a fucking cat. I live here alone. No creatures, no animals, no people, just me. I need to get my fucking shit together so I can go to sleep. I don’t want to be doing this for the next five goddamn hours_.

         He leaned against the wall, relishing the safety there again. Getting to the switch in the hallway was always a challenge. There was simply no good angle in his house to get there, let alone while racing against his own mind.

         He took the steps in leaps, swearing that this time he felt something tugging on his arm. He looked around in panic and wanted to scream. “This was supposed to stop. They said it would _fucking stop_ ,” he whispered, clutching his arms around himself. He turned off the lights as best he could, retracing his steps until he was back in the hallway. He didn’t feel anything that time, and could almost believe that he was tricking himself with all of this, that none of it was real.

         There was just one more room to dash for, his bedroom. From there, it was an attached bathroom. He would be safe. He could sleep with his lamp on tonight to ease his mind into dreams and not nightmares.

         He tripped over something as he sprinted down the second and shorter hallway for his open bedroom door. He wondered what it could possibly have been; it wasn’t his own foot and the floor was clean. He’d just _seen_ that it was clean. He tried to stand, but felt a weight pinning him down. Suddenly, there was the stink of decay filling his nose and hot breath against his cheek. A voice, one that sounded more raspy and dry than he ever thought possible, sounded next to his ear. “My dear boy, we never go away. We just wait until we know the timing, so we can take you with us into the shadows.” Michael almost got out a scream before the thing, just as inky and black as the darkness of his house, swallowed him whole. Then, the night was still again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually inspired by a real method one of my best friends uses to get around her house when it's dark, because she has a phobia. Shoutout to her for letting me use that in a fic! I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
